Peridot Eyes
by Valerie Phoenixfire
Summary: A series of drabbles/short fics about Jihl Nabaat. More to come, probably.
1. Clockwork

**Author's Note: **These drabbles are meant to reflect both a canon and AU version of Jihl. I aim for exposition; what does she do outside of the military life, and what was her past like? What happens when the end comes? Make of these what you will. All content is, of course, property of Square.

**Clockwork**

With a smooth press of her gloved hand, the front door clicked shut, and the eternal fireworks of Nautilus withered to a haze in Jihl's eyes. For a few moments, she could still see them glimmering and popping in rhythm to the vibrant mass of visitors below. She took a deep breath as they faded from her mind and forced herself to feign alertness as she crossed the entryway into her bedroom. Her satchel, which she only bothered bringing when multiple meetings were certain, was left carelessly by a lone chair in the hallway.

It was like clockwork. A coat, deep jade in hue and ornamental as was the norm for officers, found itself slipped off its owner's shoulders and draped over a large armchair. Jihl gazed at it, her matching eyes scrutinizing its surface for marks and scratches, and allowed her hand to slowly caress it. She let everything within her quiet down, if only for that stolen moment; she had no idea how many more she could gather. Coarse hide mingled with smooth. Cool lingered while heat overwhelmed the garment's brilliant illuminated sections. As always after her long days, Jihl allowed a transition into what might only be called a rest period.

Clockwork.

She recognized the weight of her clothing just then, even without the coat. It was painfully apparent that she was overheating, though the fact snuck up on her only once she freed her mind. Then she noticed it. The stickiness, the grit; it manifested rather suddenly, but every time was the same. She expected it by now. After all, the warm weather was more than pleased to add itself onto her regimen of constant motion from base to ship, ship to headquarters, and everywhere she was needed. Her weary hands wandered to her blouse to pull apart several buttons and with her first real sigh of relief of the day, she sat on her bed.

The other officers agreed. Today seemed more intense than usual. Clenching her teeth, she fought the sudden sharp pain that knifed through her upper back and neck. Yet, it was over as soon as it had begun, and so she moved on.

Minutes ticked by. Jihl's gloves were off by now, and she removed her glasses and rubbed her pained eyes with equally aching hands. She glanced at them when her vision refocused. They were one of the few features on her body that she truly appreciated. With a hair of a smile, she recounted the number of times they held her baton to strike down yet another filthy brute from the world below. Delicate yet brimming with strength at the same time, they brought her satisfaction. Half-shutting her eyes, she cleaned the lenses of her glasses as she filed her daily accomplishments away into her mind.

The silence was broken by running water. Routine resumed as Jihl readied a bath for herself, making sure to pepper the water with a variety of salts and other additives to scent and soften it. Today seemed like a good day for rose petals, she figured; perhaps the pale blue ones. Those, too, were crushed and sprinkled in with the rest. Sensitive fingers checked the temperature; it was just right. A bit on the hot side, but only because it would allow for a longer soaking time. She eased herself into the moderately oversized tub and leaned back. The ceiling blurred to her, its ivory tones melding with silver marble.

One hour passed. Jihl finished wringing out her hair and let out a contented sigh. Her skin, now free of the day's impurities, seemed as if it were wrapped in silk. Bergamot and lavender essences filled the room. She cast her eyes to her clothing, which she folded as neatly as she could given her exhaustion. Even without her glasses, she could see that a button was beginning to detach. She turned away. Petty things. She wouldn't let them overtake her soothed mind.

The stars were never prominently visible from Jihl's windows due to the ever-present fireworks lighting up the night, but she was sometimes thankful for it. Her towel wrapped tightly around her body, she stood in front of the bedroom window and stared, silent. Currently, the explosions in the air were reds and oranges. She smiled to herself, noting that there was nearly no sign of stars tonight at all. Letting her towel drop to the floor, she stretched, completely oblivious to the presence of a window at all. Everyone was so far below her; they wouldn't notice. She didn't have to cater to them anyway. She was free right now. Inhaling deeply, Jihl shut her eyes and welcomed the sensations of pure calm. It was so rare, but so precious. No metal trapping her neck, no transparent film clinging to her and choking every inch of her. No rules. Her eyes opened. She was alone.

Her bed invited her further. Not wasting more than a minute, she melted into it, hiding under layers of luxurious fabrics. She pulled her favorite of the bunch, the down blanket, close to her. So much warmth. It was then that the realization that she could finally sleep hit her. Every time she was blessed with the ability to spend more than paltry minutes in bed, it seemed, was a grand revelation.

The clockwork ended there. Jihl's eyes, though begging for rest, never shut. She recalled the lack of stars tonight. Rarely had this manifested in her mind as a trigger of any sort, but it did. Just to spite her weary body, it did. She exhaled slowly, fighting her brain's urge to recollect. The academy. Like the voices from outside that could only be heard if her windows were open, her mind forced her years upon her at this very hour. She cringed. Pleasant heat enveloped her, but she could only see white flowers on top of a hill that was illuminated by a thousand stars. Her hands were held back then, but she clung tighter to her blanket. Absurd, she reasoned; the past was not present. But she held on, a tremor running through her.

Thoughts dissipated with a tired whimper. She was alone again.


	2. Happy

**Happy**

"We all wish for a better life. But even in a god-given world, there are those who fare better than others."

The words didn't fall on deaf ears. Even though she was young, the girl continued listening. As her father waved his hand, signaling that they were to keep walking, she hopped off her bench and followed him eagerly. He hinted at a smile and spoke again.

"We were all blessed, but some were just blessed... more."

A delicate hand reached for a white flower to pick it, followed right by another. The girl smiled back at him.

"Are you happy? Even if we don't have anything?"

He frowned in response.

"Don't say that. We have each other. And..."

A pause. He didn't want to upset her.

"... I am happy."

The girl smiled, holding her bouquet closer to her.

"... then I'm happy, too!"

Jihl's eyes popped open right then, and she uttered a sharp, shuddering gasp. Another dream; another reminder of her past. She turned to her side, her eyes narrowing and focusing on the alarm clock. 2:30 in the morning. Another sleepless night.

The warmth of the bed was still not enough to soothe her back to sleep. If anything, it felt as if it were congesting her body; she felt the fabric meet her sweat. She breathed in deeply and grimaced, catching her own scent on it and feeling overwhelmed. Dreams always did this to her. She hated them for it. With a great deal of hesitation and yet realizing no other choice was to be had, she sat up and stretched. One hand reached for her glasses; the other grabbed her robe on the other side of the bed. Within seconds, she was dressed and in the living room.

The large chair was practically calling to her, but Jihl ignored it. As good as sleeping sounded, thoughts saturated her mind far too greatly to allow for any sort of rest. She wandered over to the window and gazed outside, her breath fogging it slightly.

People below, even at this hour. She adjusted her glasses, examining all that she could. Her frown deepened. What were they doing out in the middle of the night? Sleep was a priority; they should at least attempt it. She pulled away, turning to the empty fireplace in vague disgust. Fools. They would never be as productive as they were meant to be. Never as productive as her, certainly. She glanced to a shelf nearby that had a few finished lace eggs on it as if to emphasize her point.

Delicate fingers then rested on the glass of the window. The clouds floated freely outside, and she could see stars through them. Buildings glowed similarly, their hues reflecting in her lenses. She breathed out slowly, warming her hand. Perhaps sleep was, for once, possible again. She had to be better than those people, after all.

But she remembered. Her father's voice; his response to her inquiry. The flowers that she picked and that had died a day later. She pulled a lock of golden hair away from her tired eyes.

Of course she was happy.

She had everything she needed. She had the approval of the highest order. Legions of soldiers bowed to her command. Cocoon was safe.

How could one not be happy?

Her eyes caught the sight of an embrace. In the distance, fireworks lit the sky, and there were cheers.

Jihl finally submitted to the chair, curling up on it, her hands clinging to her arms lightly after setting her glasses on a small table nearby. The darkness and silence kept her good company. She shivered.

Tomorrow was another day.


	3. Eggs

**Eggs**

The needle made its final prick, and just like that, the job was done.

She pulled back to fully see her freshly completed latticework, and despite a deep ache in her neck and the stark realization of hunger, she accepted the piece as satisfactory. Silence grasped the room as the needle rejoined the other tools. It was decided that there would be no more scratching at eggshells for tonight.

The shelf needed a good dusting, she observed. Escaping that thought for the moment, she located an empty spot amidst the other creations and set her newest one there. She stepped back. The shelf was finally full, and every egg was different. Every single one had some sort of merit in its intricacy; none were a total waste of time. It was how it should be. Her eyes drifted up to the shelves above and down to those below. Mostly empty. That would soon change.

The window was partly open, letting in the warm air of a summer evening. She watched the lights of the buildings flicker and followed ships as she replaced her robe with something appropriate enough for a trip downstairs. Breathing in the humidity, she fixed the final button on her blouse. There. The mirror said it all; she was ready to remedy her hunger, socialize with the rest of the elite, and then return home. She blinked her watery eyes before wiping them in order to check the time. It was after eight, and she wasn't ready to sleep for another three hours. Perhaps there would be time to start another egg.

Her eyes rested again on the scene beyond the window.

No, she didn't need those thoughts. They were only detrimental.

Her standard coat finished her ensemble; an elaborate final touch despite her simplified look for merely handling the task of feeding herself. That familiar blue on her shoulders started up again as the coat lingered on her body, but she decided that the air in the room could have been of assistance.

Credit chip in hand, she set out to perform one final task.

Nimble fingers pulled the window shut. She could handle warmth, but stuffiness would make it too difficult to sleep. But she couldn't turn away; not just yet. Not again, she protested silently as, moth to a flame, her eyes found a point in the distance. The edge of Eden could never have as much significance as it did now.

_... no, I don't think he will see tomorrow._

That was all she needed. Like falling leaves in autumn, it was accepted and inevitable. She glanced to the shelves. There would definitely be time for just one more egg.


	4. Break

**Break**

It was light again.

This was worth it, all of it. She accepted this as she left her own shell before being suddenly thrown into confusion. All at once, she felt weightless. Her eyes met her foes, her home, those she might have considered her friends. She paused, touching her face. The glasses were no longer needed, and she could see again.

She saw them flail as they fell, taken down after tearing at her forces like wild dogs. There was something difficult about smiling now. This was worth it, wasn't it? It hurt, she remembered, but only just before that last moment. She felt something similar to heat as she drifted off. Perhaps the numbness altered everything she could recognize, or maybe those were the last remnants of the spell. Perhaps it was meant to feel like sleep.

This may have been a dream, after all. She watched and waited for a vivid scene, the next great moment. It didn't come. She took in a breath of nothing. They stumbled before her, bleeding to death, just as she had hoped. Surely somewhere nearby was her replacement ready to take command as flawlessly as she did.

Why did it hurt, then? Death was honorable, she was told long ago, but she knew she'd never die. Not before she accomplished her goals, anyway. Their lives were meant to be ruined, for they had waged destruction on her home before. Why did it hurt? They collapsed as they were shot, their hearts crushed to nothing.

She kneeled as she watched through new eyes, the wind finally calm around her. This wasn't worth it. When she lived, there was nowhere to go but up, and at the top, there was nothing more. She would see the end at the top.

She pulled at grass she had never touched before. It was as if for that moment, things stopped mattering.

Somewhere in the distance, a girl picked up a leaf to add to her collection. There was a woman holding the hand of someone close to her. She didn't know their stories, and they didn't know hers. Yet, they smiled so genuinely. She was willing to understand now.

She continued watching the enemies fall in droves, still silent. Suddenly, she broke, her hands finding her eyes and feeling more than sweat. This wasn't worth it, and it never was.


	5. Butterfly

**Butterfly**

Fall had arrived, forcing the nights to fade slowly. Yet, the sun always won in the far cooler mornings, flooding the world with its gentle heat.

Golden rays matched golden hair. Jihl was asleep at her desk, still clad in her uniform after an unforgiving night. Her papers were still strewn about her vicinity, and she was just lucky enough to not spill a vial of ink. The newfound warmth stroked her face, a tingling that was delightfully familiar and at the same time, unwelcome. The commander wanted sleep, even if she allowed herself to drift off at her workspace.

A single eye opened. _This was another day._ She lifted her aching head, rubbing her temples, reaching for glasses that were somewhere under the pile of paper.

There it was. A flutter of brilliant blue and yellow. She blinked, trying to catch a glimpse of it before it would assuredly catch an updraft and fly away.

The butterfly tiptoed along the edge of her windowsill, probably enthralled by the warmth of its metallic lining. Its wings twitched once as it seemed to turn to her.

Jihl reached out, allowing it to perch on her gloved finger.

She smirked. This one must be not as bright as the others. It wouldn't last through the dropping temperatures that were making their way to Cocoon.

Lustrous wings folded closed and opened like leaflets of a tiny book. The tiny creature was silent, seemingly content.

"Go on. Get out of here."

She wiggled her finger, forcing the curious insect to let go and meander away from her window, its path uneven and somewhat jarred as it took to the sky. Spring green eyes followed it, that smile not disappearing.

It floated higher and higher, cutting through low clouds and merging with the farthest points of Eden. Jihl's eyes narrowed as she adjusted her glasses closer to her face. It hovered around the main seat of the Sanctum, gliding between spires and disappearing from view.

"... I'll be up there, too."

She stared at her papers. Some of the ink had leaked from her pen, spotting some of the edges.

"... eventually."

She shut her eyes, taking a moment to soak in the sun. Just another day.


	6. Sympathy

Author's Note: This was written as a response to a prompt entitled, quite appropriately, "sympathy."

**Sympathy**

"All units, hold."

A silence fell over the troops the instant they heard the voice of their commander. Around them, hushed whispers permeated through the air, perhaps from the few civilians that hadn't run off. Even farther away, thunder rumbled once or twice. Tension blanketed the scene with a sudden, fierce presence.

Jihl's shoes were the only ones making any noise as they traversed the dusty, war-battered ground. Her movements were graceful, seemingly far too graceful for the jarring situation around her. She stopped, forcing more fearful whispers.

Two were dead, one was clearly on the last edges of life nearby, and one was sitting on the ground, her face hidden in her arms as she shook uncontrollably. Jihl towered over her, the idle smile fading from her face. A rush of wind ruffled her hair.

"Stand up."

No response. The girl, probably in her mid-teens, did, however, cease her shaking.

"I said stand up."

Her fingers rested on her baton handle, waiting for the moment to strike. More wind sifted through her dust-stained hair, forcing her to push some out of her face. She was getting agitated, but at the last moment, the girl stood up.

She had blue eyes which somehow managed to draw one's attention away from the jet-black l'Cie tattoo imprinted just next to them. Jihl's eyes trailed downward, noticing that her hands were clasped. She was clearly too afraid to move the few strands of hair that rested on her face.

The commander met her eyes again, squinting her own as the sunlight pierced the smoke-filled skies again.

"It was Kujata, wasn't it, that branded you?"

The captive was slow to respond, but she spoke. Every word was soft yet clear.

"Yes, ma'am."

Jihl pulled off her glasses, and her widened eyes seemed even larger. A polite l'Cie? She couldn't fathom the existence of such. Snorting softly, she paced around her.

"We shall take you into custody for now, and your fate shall be determined by the Primarch later."

She made her full circle and resumed standing in front of the younger female.

"Is that clear?"

Distant thunder muffled the girl's choked whimper. She bowed her head, her hair finally leaving her line of sight.

"Very clear, ma'am."

"Good."

With that final word, the lieutenant colonel proceeded to wander away from the fresh catch towards the transport ship. Her watchful eyes followed the soldiers, the hint of a smirk curling on her face. This was standard. They handcuffed her, said a few more perfunctory phrases, and led her towards Jihl. The girl's face never changed.

Silence was lost again. A small something, flat and with a dark sheen, fell from the girl's vest pocket just as she reached the ramp where Jihl stood. The commander took a step toward to attempt a closer look.

A soldier picked it up, glancing up to his superior for orders. The girl gasped. Jihl opened her mouth to speak, but was surprised by the captive's change of demeanor.

"Please don't destroy that...!"

She whimpered, glancing back to the several fallen people in the background. Clearly relatives or friends, Jihl assumed.

"It's all I have left of--"

"Don't speak without Colonel Nabaat's permission, l'Cie!"

The soldier's harsh voice punctured through the tenderness in the air as he forcibly grabbed the girl's arm, his other looking as if it were about to crush the object held within. The l'Cie choked back more tears, head bowing again.

Jihl made her way down the ramp, ending up in front of them seconds later. The gold print on her coat glimmered as the breeze flowed around it. She turned to the soldier who reprimanded the captive.

"Don't be so harsh."

The girl gathered enough courage to look up at her, her tear-stained eyes not noticing any smile on Jihl's face. She was both horrified and confused as the lt. colonel continued.

"We don't normally kill their families, you know. Give that thing back to her."

The soldier was barely able to respond.

"... y-yes, ma'am."

Jihl stepped aside so that the group could continue onto the airship. She breathed deeply, maintaining enough composure not to cough from the polluted air. The girl looked back only once, her face overcome with awe.

The airship waited for Jihl, its engine's output intensifying as it got ready for an imminent takeoff. As the cargo door creaked and lifted, Jihl gazed at the distant, fallen forms of the dead from her spot at the top of the ramp. She sighed, removing her glasses to clean the dust off of them.

Rosch would hear about this.


	7. 150 Words

**A/N: **These are super short (150 words or less) drabbles that I figured I'd simply group in one document.

**Exhaustion**

"Colonel, please look at this itinerary; it was given to us-"

"Ma'am, is the training ending early today instead-"

Their words were the buzzing of flies to Jihl's ears. Eyes shut, she rested against the railing. The wind caressed her, as her gloves did to each other.

Of course she was proud of her position. Sometimes, though, it shut her down. She admitted it. Muscles sore and with the bubbling of many voices entering her mind, she faced a lone soldier down below.

He sat, seemingly waiting for nothing. There was peace.

If only for just one day, Jihl thought.

* * *

**Hourglass**

She rested her glasses on the table as she leaned in to observe the crimson beads of sand before her.

In fact, she felt no need to look at all. She closed her eyes, a touch of a smile on her face as she listened.

There was a soft hiss as the sand piled at the bottom of the bronze hourglass; it was not abrasive but audible enough to silence everything else.

Jihl was always impatient, always begging to sail past the current day and set sights on the next.

But for once, she relaxed, savoring the passage of time.

* * *

**Mosaic**

Light found its way through dusty windows, marking the cracked texture of Jihl's gloves with a pale ochre glow.

Her fingers wound their way through the intricate tesserae that constituted the walls. She had never been here before, but curiosity as well as a day off from work encouraged her to explore.

She followed the patterns of swirling clouds and water with intrigued hands and eyes, the latter's green matching a depiction of trees.

Pulling away, she stepped back to observe the scene in full. Silly tiles. Nature was too peaceful here.

She sighed.

_Calm, Jihl._

_You're in your element._

_

* * *

_

**Fakes**

He looked at her as she turned away from the spectacle, obviously unmoved by the fantastic light show and its thousands of screaming viewers.

"Jihl... this show only happens once every three years. I want you to watch it with me."

"They're just a bunch of fakes."

"Well, of course; they're representing the actual fal'Cie."

"I know. The real ones are fakes, too."

"Jihl. They provided for us, and still do."

He paused, smiling.

"I know you like taking walks in the sunshine."

"They don't care. Even Phoenix gets too hot, and he doesn't listen when I tell him so."

* * *

**Kaleidoscope**

There must have been some mistake. Jihl pulled back the tape of the haphazardly resealed box and let its paper wrapping fall. The box was eased apart, slowly and delicately, and settled its lid on her desk.

Her gloves met the sort of wood that easily matched that of her furniture. Gold, its patterning even outclassing any on her uniform, shimmered as she carefully grasped the object.

Her confusion dissipated as her eye met one end of it. Then, silence. Glass and light. A staggered breath.

She stopped, then, the thing still held in her hands. This was worth keeping.

* * *

**Present**

"Happy birthday, Jihl."

The large yellow bird squawked and reared back as its harness was tugged by its presenter. The smile wouldn't leave Yaag's face as he watched his fellow officer's smirk descend into a horrified frown.

"Yaag..."

The female commander backed up as the bird murmured and attempted to nip at the frames of her glasses.

"You know I'm allergic to these things."

"I know. But what's a fine colonel to do without her trusty steed?"

Jihl sighed. The chocobo leaned in and thrust its fluffy face into its new owner's, resulting in an indignant sneeze from the latter.

* * *

**Desolate**

Finally, she pulled a glove off.

Cracked skin felt as frail as old paper, but fresh blood betrayed the dryness. She winced, pulled her legs in closer as the breeze picked up, and looked to the sky.

A gray haze was broken by a burst of light. It was storming again, she concluded, and she quietly braced herself for it. The tree could only provide so much shelter.

That first drop of rain seemed colder than usual.

She traced along the torn edge of her coat and watched her shadow. It drifted, hiding from the oncoming clouds, and left her.

* * *

**A/N: **This next one is about her parents. Make of that what you will.

**Darling**

The home was silent. Typical for the nighttime, and yet, tonight brought a sheer stillness that jarred the bedroom's two inhabitants.

"Are you cold, darling?"

He was at the doorway; she was on the bed. He saw her arms, milky-white under the solitary lamp, shiver.

"No. You always think that."

He leaned against the door, watching her.

Even when irritated, she had that same effect on him. Green eyes lacked the weariness of his own; her skin clear, not cracked like his.

"Shall I turn the light out for you?"

"Yes."

Darkness. He smiled.

She watched his silhouette and sighed.

* * *

**Kaleidoscope II**

He knew immediately it was for her: polished wood traced in gold, colors from within glinting as they caught the light.

The next day, he inspected it closely after thanking its maker profusely for his expedient amendment. Now it was perfect. Divine.

The one precious crystal was worth it.

For her.

He remembered her. Surely she hadn't changed: there she was, her long hair somehow in the way of her hands when they needed to work, her eyes greener than her beloved waterscape, still adjusting to new lenses.

He had no doubt she'd love it.

Even if for a second.

* * *

**Gravity**

She didn't even bother trying to get up.

It gripped her; the weight of a thousand stones bearing down and pressing her face against the dusty surface of a clearing.

She couldn't see the ship leave out of the corner of her eye. She could barely focus on a blur beyond the horizon and the dirt directly before her.

It didn't quite hit her until just then.

Sudden silence. The rustle of grass, maybe, or a distant bird call.

Breathing out flooded her chest with pain. Lifting a hand to pull away ragged strands of her was no easier.

The blood had already soaked through.

She had succumbed to the cursed planet, letting its pull hold her. After the hostile craft left, she had allowed herself just those few moments of calm before the wyverns, making their daily rounds overhead, granted her a reminder of her place in this world.


	8. Chirp

**Chirp**

Late afternoon had finally set in, lengthening the shadows of the trees and crystal shards scattered throughout the Waterscape. Though the evening's cool air was surely approaching, the remnants of the day's heat still caused great discomfort for anyone traversing the reserve's great span.

Only one daring human ventured into the region today, and she pulled away several golden strands of hair from her sweat-tinged forehead. The salt had hit her eyes, too, and she pulled off her glasses to clean them.

She glanced up at the endless sky and grimaced at the wavering form of a distant deity still evident in the atmosphere. He was moving steadily, silently; his heat ready to engage Pulse, as it was nearing morning on its far side.

"Phoenix... why did you have to make it so hot today?"

She replaced her glasses after wiping off her eyes and continued on, not allowing a few degrees above her comfort level to halt her excursions.

Something, however, made her stop if only for a moment. A distant peep, probably no more than a few feet away from the footpath, snapped her out of reflecting. She turned to the source of the sound, debating on its possible cause.

"Birds? But the only kind of major bird species around here is..."

The peep became sharper and much louder as she approached it and, gasping, froze.

"I knew it."

The chocobo chick, still with a piece of its shell attached to one of its legs, jumped to the edge of its nest with the grace of a vaguely yellower dandelion puff. Chirping fiercely, its beady eyes focused on the colossal long-haired being in front of it.

Jihl smiled, but just barely.

"You're not scared of me. Good for you, chocobo."

One finger reached out to poke the bird's fuzzy chest, which resulted in its tumbling back into the nest along with a confused grunt. This didn't last long, as Jihl immediately picked it up and started wandering away from the nest. Strangely enough, there were no immediate complaints from the suddenly eager and interested bird, and so its captor continued walking.

"K...ka-weh?"

The chick vocalized just that once before it ruffled its feathers to roughly twice their size and settled into the palm of Jihl's hand. Beady eyes stared up at her with what could almost be construed as a smile on its miniscule beak.

"Tired? Or were you just abandoned and thinking I'm your new mother or something? I don't speak chocobo."

She snorted softly, shaking her head as they reached the edge of the plateau. As the wind picked up, both human and bird knew that night was creeping in.

"I can see Eden from here..."

She blinked.

"Oh. I guess going home is a good idea about now."

The chocobo chirped and bit her thumb, resulting in a slight hiss from the girl.

"... and yeah, you're not coming with me."


	9. Tea

**Tea**

The cup was strikingly fragile; it was the most delicate china obtainable on Cocoon. Though smooth as the warm liquid inside it, it was not plain. The floral patterning on its surface seemed to be painted with gold, and its rim, round to perfection, shimmered like powdered rubies.

It trembled in Jihl's hand, yet it was safe in her gentle grasp.

Her eyes stared into the fire. Without her glasses, it was blurred. No matter. Focusing had no purpose here. She was calm, needing only her leather chair and her tea. For once, her eyes spoke of contentment. Outside, the wind howled, but in her own cocoon, she felt secure.

The clock ticked.

A particularly loud crackle of the fire popped her out of her minor trance. She brought the cup to her lips. Peering into the water, she saw her face. She blew softly, creating ripples on the surface, and then took one light sip.

It was divine. The roasted aroma of green tea was the dominant scent she could catch, but she vividly caught notes of cinnamon, a hint of ginger, and, somewhere in there, the slightest notion of apples.

She paused, inhaling deeply, and took another sip. Within the fuzzy confines of her mind, she remembered everything: running through those woods, the flurry of yellow feathers, rain at small, round windows, and laughter. Not hers, of course. It lingered through tears.

Jihl hated it.

She shook her head, caressing the edge of the cup. Those days were long gone.

Green eyes met the golden surface of her tea once again. She had to admit that her deep appreciation of simple, pleasurable moments never faded, for back then, it was the most she could ever expect.

She quivered, turning to the window. No, not back then. Even now.


	10. Fireflies

**Fireflies**

The breezes left with the sun, leaving the air gentle and forgiving.

This sudden stillness shocked most of Eden's residents, but one of its most prominent figures welcomed it. She rested against the windowsill, a breath leaving mist, and didn't mind her dusty sleeve.

On the floating city, fireflies were rare. But here they were, shushing the masses into a stupefied awe.

She watched, a finger tracing the glass. Like puzzle pieces, the distant flickers settled perfectly within oily lines.

It all felt familiar.

The fields behind her meager home were lush, and on the very warm nights, she would watch them. They painted the trees, casting gold onto green and, at times, leaving her frozen in place as they spiraled; faint pirouettes within the shadows of leaves.

She wouldn't dare try to catch them; their appearance was routine. It was necessary: true wonder to the people, food for the wildlife, vibrancy for a simple yard.

"Come inside, Jihl. You can see them tomorrow."

"They won't be here tomorrow. I know when they will be."

He ushered her in.

"It's not the end of the world."

No response. He didn't pry. But he watched her watch them. Through the smallest of windows, they silhouetted her tiny hand.

It was just as silent, and the sky was just as dark. This was more than familiar; it was no different.

Almost.

She stepped back, watched her handprint, and barely smirked at how many more of them fit within the outlines.


End file.
